nämêlêšš

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
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Submitted: February 22, 2017

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Submitted: February 22, 2017

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She said "when you want to die you start taking bigger risks." She stopped wearing her seatbelt just in case there was an accident. Because she knows a seatbelt can save her life and maybe in that split second she was praying someone hit her with the car, and she would go through the windshield. When she walks on the sidewalk, she walks as close to the edge as possible. So maybe if a car goes by, they are not paying attention and they hit her by mistake. When she is shaving, she  puts a little extra pressure on the blade. So when she is close to her heel, she can cut her tendon and bleed out. She wants to kill herself but she wants someone else to do it for her. She can't let the people around her know how bad she is actually suffering. She can't tell them she wants to die so she finds ways that she can do it without actually doing it herself. People need her and if she killed herself, it would just put her sadness on someone else. "I would do anything to stop breathing, and maybe it's inconsiderate, but sometimes you have to put yourself first. If you want something to happen the way you want it to, you have to do it yourself. This is no longer a cry for help. This is me showing you that I don't want to live anymore." Those were the last words she said before the bullet went right into her temple. Her body laid lifeless on the ground, and it soon became very cold. I can still see the smile on her face when she pulled the trigger. After two years of her being unhappy, that was the first time I saw her smile. She was right, she was being inconsiderate and put herself first at the wrong time. She never gave someone a chance to show her that they needed her and now she will never know. It was always hard watching her from afar. She thought she could get rid of me if she killed herself, but here I am, staring at her lifeless body. I was her only friend. I told her no one would want her and to others she was a nobody. I followed her everywhere like I was her shadow that she could never see. I would laugh when she would sit in her room and cry, taunting her. She was no good, a piece of garbage that everyone hated. I would whisper things to her when she slept so she could wake up feeling miserable. She never saw me but she knew I was around. I would hold her down when she wanted to get up and fight and soon enough she just gave up. She slipped into my grip, it was the perfect plan. To her I was a nameless figure, filled with anger and sadness. She was the most beautiful disaster I have ever seen and I am glad I did my job and made her believe she was nothing. 

 


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